banjo alfred

Visual Designer

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

New project: Copy work of 30 flash fictions from my favorite micro fiction writers

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

“I am preparing for the day when everyone has gold. When gold is everywhere, no one will trade for it. But iron will still build the tools needed to survive.”

The Mountain was silent for a long time.

Then it closed its gates and kept its gold buried deep beneath the earth.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

Flash fiction 8 of 30

THE CROWS WARNING

Flash fiction 18 of 30

THE CROWS WARNING

Long ago, the Mountain announced that it would finally open its heart and give the world all the gold hidden beneath its peaks.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

Instead, he was found at the edge of the forest collecting scraps of iron and burying them in the ground.

When the Mountain asked why he ignored such a grand occasion, the crow replied…

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

@xlCalamity @BSpoke13 Touché

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

The younger boy stood on a narrow ledge beneath the broken bridge, clutching his basket.

“I got them all,” he said.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

Flash fiction 7 of 30

THE CROSSING

Two brothers were gathering chestnuts in baskets in the hills when dusk caught them far from home.

To save time, they crossed an old wooden bridge spanning a fast river.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

At that moment the bridge gave way.

The elder covered his face, certain the river had taken him.

When the crashing stopped, a small voice called from below.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

@Lasitervale @Polymarket We hear you, “White Christian Nationalist.”

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

Before the tip touched the dashboard, the "pen" uncurled violently, scuttled sideways across Andrew's knuckles, and vanished under the gas pedal with a sharp, scratching frenzy.

We both bolted upright, staring down into the floorwell at a cornered scorpion.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

Flash fiction 6 of 30

CLICK

The heavy rain pounded against the windshield as Andrew lost his black pen between the car seats.

He groaned, jamming his hand blindly into the dark gap by the handbrake.

Nothing.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

It illuminated a segmented carapace, a pair of glistening pincers, and a long, jointed tail whipping upward into a defensive strike.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

By morning, a new champion had been chosen.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

Flash fiction 5 of 30

RETURNED CHAMPION

The king’s road ended at a black gate no one remembered building.

Every year, a champion rode north to pass through it.

None returned.

[banjo alfred @banjoalfred]

Three days later, he returned.

The gate, he said, opened onto nothing at all. No monsters. No gods. Just an empty valley and a path that led nowhere.

The king ordered him executed before sunset.